


Long Haul Love

by estike



Category: Company - Lesson Passion Company
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:48:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estike/pseuds/estike
Summary: Aoyagi takes the first flight to Vienna to fetch a sulking Takano Haruka.





	Long Haul Love

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I had a very horrible time trying to decide whether I should include honorifics or not. Normally, it would never even occur to me to do so, because it seems awkward and unnecessary. My favourite thing about Haruka is how he says Aoyagi's name though, and I could not decide if it would sound just a little too rude (personal?) without honorifics in English if he only said his last name... It is probably off-putting, I apologize. It certainly is a little off-putting to me, but I went with it for now. 
> 
> 2) This is based on the concept of the Takarazuka play where both Aoyagi and Yui chase after Haruka when he leaves to Vienna. I really liked that change, and thought I would take it and run with it; but I tried to incorporate some things that were only confirmed in the book, so this is a delightful amalgamation of things I liked in each version... Oh, yes, and ideas of my own I was just aching to include. 
> 
> 3) Connected to my previous point, since the basis is the Takarazuka play, I also kept Aoyagi's first name as Seiji, as opposed to the novel's Seiichi. And, his young age... Even though I am not necessarily a fan of those changes.

 

“There’s always some sort of drama, when you are working with artists,” Yamada once told him, very knowingly, the time he was made to move to the ballet company. Sorry. The time when he moved. On his own volition. There was no force involved on any side. First off, he had no idea how Yamada would know about such things, but since he only saw a ballet once in his entire life, he decided to take his word for it.

Even then, he still imagined the advice to refer to more of the performance, the atmosphere. Like Takasaki Minami. That entire girl herself is the epitome of drama. Unable to lose, unwilling to lose. Before his eyes, he saw ballerinas practising until the early hours of the morning, perfecting their choreography, so they can compete for a better role. That.

And not the “Takano Haruka took the first plane back to Vienna and he says he will never, ever come back to dance for the company” sort of drama. What is even worse about it is that the news goes: Takano Haruka took the first plane back to Vienna, and perhaps you are the only person who he is willing to communicate with.

He is not even sure he wants to know Takano’s reasons for it. Is there even a reason… Apart from Aoyagi being the connection between the ballet company and Ariake, of course.

The call comes early in the morning, as he is trying to avoid spilling hot water on his toes, in the process of pouring some through his drip coffee filter. One hand on the handle of the half-broken kettle with its lid coming off, another scrambling for the smartphone across the counter, he ends up burning his toes anyway. Unknown number. He presses the phone to his ear with his shoulder, trying to regain control of the kettle.

A tired voice on the other side. “Aoyagi-san?”                                               

Tired, and has a familiar way of pronouncing his name. The slightest lisp. He double-checks the time. Twenty to seven. For Takano, who would sleep through even the apocalypse, it sure is strange to be awake at this hour. Maybe he hasn’t gone to bed yet…

“Takano-san? Can I help you?”

“Is it early in the morning? Did I wake you?” Aoyagi blinks, but losing concentration makes his phone a little looser in his shoulder’s grip. He gives up on the coffee for now and takes the phone in hand.

Is Takano ill? Did he really stay awake the whole night, and lose his sense of time completely?

“I was already awake,” Aoyagi says after some consideration, because he is unsure what exactly the other wants to hear.

“Good. I thought you should know. … I left the car in the parking lot at Haneda. Please send someone to pick it up, I would hate it if Ariake had to pay so much for the parking.” His tone of voice suggests that he really could not care less about Ariake and parking tickets.

“At … what? Haneda?”

“Just as I said… I went home, Aoyagi-san. Last night.” Yes, home, to his Tokyo flat, where Segawa will pick him up later this morning, as she does all the time, like his trainer-converted-chauffeur in charge and drive him to their rehearsal session with Nayuta. Their very first. “I’m on my overlay at Charles de Gaulle. Paris.”

Aoyagi whips his computer out as quickly as possible, forcing that poor phone between his shoulder and ear again, so he does not need to stop the call. Charles de Gaulle… He murmurs the name, enunciating it as he types up.

“Charles de Gaulle? The airport?”

There is an even longer pause at the other end of the line. He is calling from the other side of the world… it must be costing Takano a fortune to keep the silence. He finally speaks. His voice is low and soft, as always.

“I told you I was going home. To Vienna.” Aoyagi is trying to say something more, get the reasons out of him, but it does not work. “Well, Aoyagi-san. Please do what I asked of you, about the car. Goodbye.”

He hangs up, leaving Aoyagi choke on his own words.

Aoyagi tries to drink his coffee, call back to the home office _and_ Segawa, and look up plane tickets to Vienna at the same time. His eyes pop out when he sees the price of a last-minute flight to Vienna. How much money does exactly a principal have to throw an expensive fit like this, when he decides that it is too lowly for him to stand on the same stage as a young, beautiful, upcoming idol? (When he, himself, said it, with his own mouth, that they should get anyone on earth they liked to fill in for the Prince, since he refused to dance the role despite prior agreements…)

Ootsuka and Yamada get Takano’s Viennese address for him somehow. Magic, perhaps. He would not know. His Japanese phone is not connecting anymore, so they also find out about his international number for him (maybe he called from that one earlier? Maybe he used a payphone at the airport), to make sure that he can get in touch if he needs to. At the same time, while throwing the essentials (toothbrush, underwear, socks, a change of shirt) into a suitcase, he rings Segawa again. How intent is she on fetching Takano and bringing him back to Toyko?

“Very,” she says. “Very. I am on my way to the airport right now. I sent someone else to get the car from the parking lot. Aoyagi-san?”

He adjusts his belt one more time, then runs back for the charger of his phone, propping the door open with his suitcase. “Yes?”

“I forgot to book a hotel room for tomorrow night in the rush to get here. Can you please…”

Of course he can.  

***

 

He meets Segawa after the security check, in the waiting lounge before their gate. Boarding would be announced shortly. She is wearing her usual, blue and white tracksuit, trainers, a massive sports bag on her shoulder.

“I was already waiting at Takano-san’s house when I received the call, I had no time to go home and take anything else,” she explains. Then, she looks around, and adds in a quiet voice. “Do you know if they sell toothbrushes anywhere around here?”

Their journey amounts to fifteen hours – from airport to airport. Segawa got her tickets when she arrived to Haneda, and Aoyagi bought his from home, and since they did not check in at the same time, they ended up getting seats far away from each other in each instance. Segawa is sitting at the very back of the plane, an aisle seat she chose. Aoyagi is closer to the front and booked next to a window. To see the scenery, of course. Nobody told him before that out of twelve hours, the flight attendants will require to shut the blinds for about ten and a half, save take off, and landing.

After a few hours, it turns cold enough that it does not matter how he tries to arrange the thin blanket the airline provides him with on himself, there is at least one limb that does not fit, and his teeth are chattering from the cold. He ends up burying himself under his long brown coat, putting it on backwards. Even though he must look ridiculous, if he has to choose between dignity and warmth, well he surely will go with the latter. It is not like he wants to appear attractive to anyone around him.

They have a little over an hour to spend at the airport in Paris. (This is where Takano came through barely a day ago, he thinks to himself.)

“Is it really worth it?” he wonders out loud, looking at Segawa who sits next to him near their boarding gate. She shrugs, waiting for him to continue. “Is it worth it going home such a distance without saying a word, over not wanting to stand on the same stage as an idol?”

“For him, it probably was.”

Even though Segawa does not elaborate, it is quite clear what she means by those words. For the ordinary person, there might be no merit in leaving behind everything this way, and abruptly running home. Takano is different, though. He is not “ordinary,” so to say.

“I do not understand the way a performer’s mind works,” Aoyagi admits, or more like, reminds his partner. “I think you are closer to him.”

“He did not even feel the need to call me about leaving the country… He only told you about it, you know. I think the one who is closer to him…” She wants to continue with something else, but Aoyagi cuts her off before she could finish.

“I meant… you were an athlete before you started working as a trainer, isn’t that right? I think that must be closer to the kind of performance he does. For an audience, and such. You must understand how his mind works better than I do.”

Segawa tilts her head slightly, giving it a think. It is lucky that she is so committed to their cause, to the company, and to Takano. Aoyagi does not really care why it is. If it is loyalty, if it is the fear of being fired, if it is her respect towards Ariake, or Takano, it does not matter. What matters instead is that they end up helping each other out, side by side, and shoulder by shoulder.

“I think it has no connection,” she finally decides. “Takano chose you, for some reason, which means that at least he thinks that you are the one closest to, or the best for him.”

For a second, he contemplates if the tone he hears in Segawa’s voice has anything to do with resentment. Or jealousy, perhaps. After all, she is supposed to be the personal trainer, and Aoyagi the boring, unrelatable salaryman the company sent on them to enforce their will. It is not a situation one expects to be liked and wanted in. After losing Suzuki Mai to a sudden child and marriage induced retirement, it must feel frustrating to the least that Takano also rejects her this way, downgrading her to a mere driver.

“My number was probably the first he could find.” Aoyagi is only trying to find an explanation, to make his partner feel better. It is not his intention to contest for Takano’s attention, after all.

He contemplates calling Takano again, before they would take off, but changes his mind about it. One cannot know how he would react to knowing that they are on their way to his house, and maybe it is for the better if they take him by surprise. It would be a shame if Takano decided not to go out and meet them, and they travelled more than half a day for nothing. Since their plane leaves tomorrow midday, they won’t even have a chance to do some sightseeing. Not that he imagines either Segawa or he would be ecstatic to do that, no matter how this evening will unfold.

“We can check in together on the way back,” he offers to Segawa, when they separate at boarding. “Maybe a long-haul flight will not be so painful in some company.”

“That is a good idea.” The woman punches the front of her bag a few times with her free hand. “Hopefully they will have laundry at the hotel tonight. Wearing the same clothes for three days straight will not make the journey enjoyable for you, Aoyagi-san.”

He presses his lips together. Of course, Segawa did not have enough time to go back to her flat and pick up even the essentials. Whatever things she had in that bag prepared for Takano came with her, and the toothbrush she purchased at Haneda, but nothing else.

Aoyagi ensures her that they should definitely find something appropriate once they get to Vienna, then their flight is called.

 

***

 

They decide to check in the hotel later and start looking for Takano first. They land after six in the evening, and that means they still have not gone through immigration yet. At least they have no checked baggage to take care of, so they are free of the airport relatively early. They take a cab into the city, then decide to walk to Takano’s place from there. (He asks Segawa to handle the whole speaking in English to the driver part.)

Aoyagi has the address saved on his phone already, and it is ready to navigate them. Only he exchanged money out of the two of them though, so he gives the address to the woman and tells her to run off while he settles the bill, since they don’t really have too much time to waste.

He contemplates calling Takano, just to make sure that he is at home, after all, before they would arrive to his house. There is no need, though. At first, he thinks his eyes play a trick on him, but then he makes sure that it is Segawa sitting on the terrace of some stylish, ancient looking café, with a slice of chocolate cake, and a dark-haired man in a black trench coat in front of her. Upon the second look, he realizes that the man in the trench coat is most definitely Takano Haruka.

Takano looks up at him, but he does not have to double-take it.       

“Aoyagi-san!” he exclaims, halfway between surprised and outraged. He jumps up from his seat immediately.

Segawa murmurs something about bringing unwanted attention on them and disturbing the atmosphere of the café under her breath, but he does not really understand what that is all about.

“You came, as well,” Takano observes at the same time. In his usual, quiet voice again. “Segawa told me about the fear downsizing, if you fail. Did your company pay for this trip?”

Aoyagi confirms that the money came out of their own pockets. And most likely, they will not see any of it back from Ariake, either. This information seems to humble Takano, at least to an extent. While he is blinking at Aoyagi, trying to get a full picture of the events in his head, Segawa is slurping her Americano, enjoying a few seconds of rest.

“Then why did you do this?” Takano asks. “Why did you come so far, using up your own resources?”

“To fetch you, of course. Did you not say it yourself, about ballet, audiences, and companionship?” Aoyagi leaves his suitcase behind for a moment, to approach the other. “What Segawa said about downsizing was true. Wanting to make the most out of this performance is also true just as much. For that, you are indispensable for us, Takano-san.”

Takano presses his lips together possibly unimpressed, so he continues, about his wife. He knows already what happened to Tomomi two years ago, so Aoyagi hopes the contents of his speech would not be considered too personal. He has to make Takano understand his reasons properly, no matter what. For that, he would even risk spilling too much information for once.

“I felt down without her … I still feel down without her in my life, but you, Takano-san, and the ballet company gave me something new to live for. Ever since I was made to transfer,” he quickly corrects himself, before the man would notice the slip-up, “ever since I moved to the ballet company, it is almost as if I found a new reason for living.”

Segawa stops drinking her coffee and stares into the distance for a while. In the free space, Aoyagi implores Takano one more, to return. It is her time to join.

“Takano-san!” the woman also asks, abandoning her Americano for good. “Please let me touch you. You haven’t much time to dance, have you? If I could examine you now, we might find a way to dramatically extend that time, with taping, or little else.”

For the first time, Takano genuinely smiles. Looking at him, Aoyagi cannot help but allow the smile to transfer to his face as well, even though he is barely even part of the current conversation. Then, he turns on his heels and dashes off, with an energy that surprises the both of them.

“I live five minutes on foot from here,” he explains, like they didn’t already know. “Come, if you want to touch me, Yui.”

As he passes by the woman, he takes the massive bag from her, and throws it across his shoulder, having not realized how heavy it truly was. Segawa is impressed that the man knows her first name. She is perhaps even more impressed that he is willing to use it.

“Aoyagi-san,” he stops, turning back. “You come with us, too.”

There is some sort of familiarity in his words that Aoyagi cannot place anywhere at first, or perhaps he does not even think about it too deeply. He gives Takano a shocked look. Why on earth would be needed for this? He is neither a trainer, nor does he know too much about dancing.

The most he knows comes from either Takasaki Minami dancing him – or Takano himself, making Aoyagi none other than his Prince the other time. Apparently, he is now dissatisfied with Nayuta, an handsome young idol celebrated all through the country, but he had no trouble holding Aoyagi by the waist and pretending to be resolved to press a kiss on his lips, if it wasn’t for Aoyagi to pull away, flustered, in the last second.

“An examination can be quite an intimate process. Would you leave her and I alone in a room, on top of a bed?” Takano clarifies, and his smile widens, teeth showing.

Aoyagi shakes his head, thinking about whatever the man implies. No. This time, he cannot return the smile because he is too busy being uncomfortable.

“… then I shouldn’t go,” he quickly decides. Takano and Segawa both glare at him, and he is unsure which one of them is pleading more silently, beckoning him with their eyes to come. “I mean… I am coming right away.”

He quickens his footsteps as he tries to catch up with them and grabs his suitcase by its handle on the way.

 

***

 

Takano lives in an old building, pretty, and different what he is used to. When he thinks of Europe (which is not too often) this is probably something similar to what would come to his mind immediately. Shapes and materials a little alien to him, but they make him nostalgic for an era he hasn’t lived in, and for a place he’s never been to.

On the inside, it looks the opposite of old, however. The interior is modern, and he would not be surprised to learn that Takano handpicked all his furniture. They take off their shoes with Segawa at the entrance, out of habit, and he leaves his coat behind as well.

“Since Aoyagi-san decided to join us too, we can do it in my bedroom,” Takano says. “It will be more comfortable.”

As he later explains, otherwise they could have gone to the other room he uses for work, where he has yoga mats and the likes to lie down on. He has no reason to, and yet, Aoyagi almost feels conned. So, he had a plan B, after all, in case Aoyagi was to go and check into the hotel instead.

He offers some tea to Aoyagi, who sits down on the armchair in the room, conveniently far away from the bed itself, and tries to pretend he really is not there at all, while Segawa does her examination. Why does he feel so uncomfortable about it? For one, Segawa needs to do her job in peace, without interruptions coming from any other side. Then, Takano himself seems to be averse to the whole idea of touching. He explained on their way here to Segawa.

“It’s not you. I loathe it when people touch me.”

He only has one hairdresser he trusts with touching his hair. (This is why Aoyagi had some trouble recognizing him: he came home and went to have his hair cut first thing as he arrived.) If it could be avoided, he would rather if absolutely nobody he did not trust touched him in his personal life. When asked about ballet, he simply says: it’s different. If it is about dancing, anything is fine. If it’s about personal life, he prefers nothing.

“So… that unknown woman in the mask and sunglasses too…?” Segawa asks, perhaps quite insolently. “It really is true that nothing happened?”

She cannot be blamed, for her curiosity to get the better of her. Everyone, to some extent, was interested in the truth about the “Whole World’s Lover,” as his fans liked to dub him. Even though he believed him, Aoyagi too, was somewhat curious. It is perhaps human nature, wanting to know such things.

“Look. If a stranger was to touch me anywhere, all night long, or otherwise, I’d be dead from stress soon enough.”

He confided in Takano before, when it came to his wife, then the courtesy was returned by the man when he told him about his true state, and not being able to dance. That still had to do with their work, however. It is the first time that Takano chooses to talk about something bordering on uncomfortably personal. It is not a complaint! Just more … drama. He plays with the mug between his palms and tries to observe Segawa and Takano without disturbing them.

“Is it the same with a woman you know… and love?” Segawa pries.

At first, he thinks that Takano would refuse to answer, claiming that they just crossed a line. But then, he forces an answer out of himself.                                                                                                                       

“A partner is different, of course. But that is not the sort of thing we are talking about now.”

When they are done, Segawa tells them everything she finds important, as she promised, and offers a few ways to try and mend the situation. Aoyagi does not understand much, but she is kind enough to simplify her explanation enough for even a layman to understand. Takano sits up on the side of his bed and for the first time this evening, he seems to be tired, and truly affected by the jet lag. He gives a look to Aoyagi, through slanted, barely open eyes. Still, he has the faintest smile on his lips. 

“Aoyagi-san,” he calls. “Do you two have anywhere to spend the night? I can offer a bed.”

Aoyagi tells him that they have a hotel reservation waiting for them, at a conveniently close location. Tomorrow around noon, they would be gone, no matter how Takano decides. If he stays, they go home to be fired. If he returns, they might have another chance to keep their places.

“It is more comfortable here than at the hotel,” Takano insists. “And I don’t mean _my_ bed… Rather, the guestroom.”

“We are not…” Segawa starts.

“We shouldn’t sleep in the same room,” Aoyagi finishes.

Takano opens his mouth, possibly trying to come up with something else, then he closes it. For a moment, Aoyagi thinks he would keep insisting.

“In any case, there is space for one,” he tries again, “my home might be more comfortable than a hotel.”

Aoyagi starts to think that he does feel responsible for making them come so far, then spend a fortune not only on the return tickets, but the accommodation as well. He would need to leave the place to Segawa, but he was already told, about an hour ago, that he should not leave a man and a woman alone in such a fragile situation. Surely, Takano is being polite with offering this time, but he would not really want to be troubled by hosting Segawa. Or Aoyagi, for that matter.

When they refuse him once more, he suggests driving them to their hotel, since it would be quicker and more comfortable, after a whole day of travelling. He himself looks worn enough, but they avoid talking about that. After all, he only arrived perhaps half a day earlier than them.

“When do you two return to Tokyo?”

To the answer, Takano remarks that they won’t even have a chance to see the city for themselves. “Aoyagi-san, you should have tried that chocolate cake too, at least.”

“It was delicious,” Segawa adds, only to increase his regret over not having it.

Takano watches them as they enter the lobby of the hotel before driving away. He says nothing about coming back or staying, but the only thing they can do is be hopeful. At least he seemed to be touched by the two of them showing up. The last thing Aoyagi remembers from the night is promising Segawa that they would not oversleep and wake up in time to catch their flight. Then he practically falls into bed with his day clothes still on and is knocked out for the next ten hours and a half.       

 

***

 

In the morning, he has enough time to take a quick shower, shave, and he even makes it to breakfast before Segawa. (She did not find a shop to buy fresh clothes at, after all, so she might be waiting for her laundry to dry, still.) He does not get as far as to get himself some coffee at the buffet, when he spots a familiar figure at one of the tables. A figure that definitely should not be sitting there. Takano smiles at him.

“Good morning. Aoyagi-san.”                

He decides to take his breakfast to the same table.

“Does this mean…?”

Takano doesn’t let him finish. “I let Segawa touch me, and I let you watch. Did you have any doubts over my return after that?”

“Frankly, I had my fair share of them. You could have just humoured her one last time, for coming this far to see you.”

When hearing the seriousness in the tone of his voice, Takano cannot properly stifle a chuckle, and allows it to spread across his face in a smile. He wears a leather jacket today, with all black underneath, and his usual turtleneck. His hair is in a half bun.

“You have a delightful way of being forward. What did Sara say? Was this the exact reason your wife fell for you?” Aoyagi does not keep eye contact with him and reaches for his coffee instead. Takano tilts his head. “Is that something I should not be asking about?”

He keeps a deep breath: it is not that Tomomi is a taboo topic. Perhaps she is. He does not know. She is surely not a tool for other people to try and deeply analyse his thoughts and actions. Sometimes, he feels, Takano takes it too far. When people try to explain your truth to you, while also trying to appear detached, it often results in creating a gap between the two of you. Nobody likes to be judged by a stranger. (Perhaps he misunderstands, and this is Takano’s way of attempting some intimacy, he tries to tell himself.)

Aoyagi tries to eat his eggs. Normally, he would know how to eat them, of course, the trying part is mostly because suddenly his appetite is gone. Takano only had a coffee in front of himself to begin with, and he mindlessly plays with the handle of the spoon it came with. After a while, he looks up at Aoyagi, tilting his head to the side.

“I suspect you still do everything in memory of your beloved wife, Aoyagi-san,” he sighs. “You want to answer the requirements of your bosses to make her happy, and you are kind and understanding with the ballet company because you want her to be proud.”

Kind and understanding, he says, as if he did not practically escape the ballet company because of one of these “kind and understanding” choices Aoyagi made for them.  

“Perhaps even your creative ideas, too, stem from trying to impress her, no?”

His chest stings from those words, but it is not really Takano, it’s himself. Takano says this without changing his tone even slightly, still whispering into the air as he would normally do. Aoyagi never knows if this is his way of speech, or his way of demanding people’s attention. He will not raise his voice to be listened to. You will sharpen your ears for him. Aoyagi doubts that is the reason, though.

“Takano-san…” He perhaps sounds like he is pleading him, and in truth, he is. “I told you already about my reasons for being so invested in this company and the performance. … Ever since I met you, I got much better.”

Takano points the spoon at him. “So you are well aware of it, after all. You know, Aoyagi-san, they do talk about you and your wife a lot. It is not always pretty. Not malicious, either, of course. I think they are worried about you.”

Aoyagi asks him, what he means. Why is he talking about this, to begin with.

“Stop being in love with a ghost,” Takano simply orders, as an answer.

“Stop being a yes-man to your company, stop being in love with your wife… Takano-san you always have something to demand of me.”

He wouldn’t call it a demand, Takano retorts, almost playfully. Instead, he would describe it as, to his biggest surprise, help. That is slightly beyond the extent to which he expected the man to admit caring. He has also impressed him, early on, with that oversleeping (mysterious fangirl visitor) scandal, but he allows himself to typecast Takano over and over again. Well… he did decide to come back to sulk to the other side of the world too, after all. And have his hair cut, while he was at it.

“Would you call these demands so far-fetched, though? I told you to stop being a yes-man, and the next thing you did was to pull up the Barbarians, making Swan Lake popular with thousands of teenagers.” He sucks his lower lip in for a moment. “Even though I hated that. Who knows what will happen when you finally free yourself from the memory of your wife.”

Before he can answer something, Segawa appears behind them, greeting Takano with the utmost surprise in her voice. So, he is not the only one who had low expectations to see Takano return with them. The woman sits down to the small round table, between the two of them.

“Good morning,” she says, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She adds, pointing at her tracksuit. “These are just freshly out of the dryer.”

Under the next breath, she asks Takano how he decided.

“Your flight is at noon, is that right? I thought we could go together to the airport.”

Segawa’s eyes pop out in happiness, and she gives the widest smile to the both of them. Mostly Aoyagi. The rest of the breakfast is spent in silence, but a blissful one, and even Aoyagi braves to eat at least half of his eggs before they have to leave.

 

***

 

Even though Takano goes to the airport with them, their friendly interaction ends at around check-in, when he walks over to the business class counter, and disappears from their sight a few minutes later, as he heads into the security check alone. Segawa stares at his back for a while.

“Of course, he would fly business class,” she murmurs under her breath, and it is hard to tell whether she is impressed or annoyed. “I hear they give you edible food there. If it was not more than three times the original price, I would even think it is worth it to be fed well.”

As they discussed before, they get seats next to each other. Segawa insists that the back of the plane would be the best, on both flights.

“The toilet is close,” she explains. Fair enough.

Aoyagi sits inside again, hoping that this time he would see more of the scenery than on the way here. It seems like his partner is contented with that, because she prefers the aisle seat. (For now, this is completely incomprehensible for Aoyagi, who does not fly frequently, or think about flying for the most part.)

Since Takano disappeared, they decide to buy some souvenirs for the people at the office during their free time. Yamada and Ootsuka, at least.

“My souvenir for Wakizaka is that I will not punch him in the face and take all of his teeth with me,” Segawa claims, before she could catch herself.

In the end, they decide to bring something for him too from the desserts they picked out, to avoid more antagonism. Sometimes it is the colleagues you hate the most who get the best souvenirs, because you are loaded with ulterior motives, Aoyagi thinks. Oh yes, and a desire for survival.

Takano sleazily waves at them at the boarding gate, as he lines up to take his privileged seat with other passengers who fly first or business class. Segawa nods as a response, and Aoyagi tries his best to wave back, even though his hands are full of paper bags of souvenirs they bought at duty-free.

They only fly an hour at first, until Munchen where they have their connection. On the way here, it was easy to calm himself with “there is only ninety minutes left” once they got off their first flight. Now, he has to look forward to twelve hours of being squeezed into an uncomfortable seat, knowing way too well of the cold and the boredom that awaits him. At least when he runs out of the films he wants to watch, there is Segawa to keep him company this time.

She did not like the sandwich they gave her on the plane, so the moment they get off, she finds the first café where she can buy an Americano and a toastie. Aoyagi did eat his food on the way, so he wanders around at Munchen airport instead, before their flight would be called.

“I will see you on board, then,” he tells her, as a goodbye. Segawa tells him to leave the paper bags with her, since she has no plans of moving from here for the next hour or so.

He rolls his suitcase around for a while and checks every screen as he does so, not having a lot of confidence in his English abilities. When the announcement comes, he finds that they use a Japanese version as well, so he was quick to worry. The gate is relatively close to where he wandered off, so he is among the first ones to queue up.

He goes straight to the back of the plane and loads his suitcase at the overhead compartment, then, learning from last time, makes sure to tuck his coat next to himself, trying to squeeze it between his armrest, and the wall.

Segawa is not there yet. She must be still waiting to be boarded, he thinks. It was cruel of him to leave all the souvenirs to her, because now she has to take those on, along with her massive bag, that is already too much for one person to handle.

People start pouring onto the back of the plane as well, and soon enough all the rows he can see are fully filled. He hears some German, but mostly Japanese all around himself. For all through his journey, he did not really interact with locals, so the feeling of being abroad was not too strong. This time, on the plane, he suddenly feels very foreign nevertheless.

Segawa drops her leather jacket down on the seat next to him when she finally arrives, as the last person on their section to board. It takes a while for Aoyagi to realize that Segawa does not have a leather jacket. He looks up, to be met with Takano’s black eyes, and pointy chin. Without thinking, he calls the man’s name, looking for an explanation.

“I gave my ticket to Segawa,” Takano explains as he plops down next to him. “She seemed like she needed it. And this was my plan to begin with, anyway.”

“Your plan?”

Takano smiles at him and tries to cross his legs behind the other seat. He fails. “To sit next to you.”

“This is a twelve-hour-long flight, you know. Why would you want to sit next to me, of all people?” Aoyagi asks, and even though he tries not to laugh, it ends up bleeding into his speech.

Out of the two of them, Segawa and Aoyagi, Segawa surely is the more interesting conversational partner. She has her own way of seeing things, she is confident, and perhaps a little rough, but that only makes her more charming. She is also the prettier one to look at. Meanwhile, Aoyagi is just your average, boring salaryman, who is afraid of announcements made about his flight at airports, because they might come in English.

Takano purrs, in his usual, low tone, aiming to make fun of him. “Aoyagi-san… Allow me to have my own reasons.”

Aoyagi suspects that he really just got tired of having real, nutritious meals on business class.

 

***

 

During the take-off, Takano says nothing. He keeps saying nothing until the drinks are served about forty minutes later, and he asks for a beer for both himself and Aoyagi. (Aoyagi wonders if he takes over speaking to the flight attendant because he understands his fear of English.)

He ends up explaining his love for beer to Aoyagi.

“Japanese beer, to be precise. I thought, since we are headed towards Tokyo, they might have some in stock…” He shrugs and pours some to Aoyagi’s plastic cup. “Well. Next time perhaps.”

Aoyagi is not particularly a big fan of beer, but he will not refuse a drink. Especially that the flight attendants have already gone behind the curtain with their cart, so he has hardly any way to change his mind.

“Beer is the only thing I really miss from home,” Takano announces.

Aoyagi says it explains why he finds it so easy to be travelling so freely all over the world, if beer is the only thing that ties him to home. The man draws circles on the plastic cup’s brim with his index finger.

“I wonder if you would find it easy too, to move abroad. After all, a ghost can follow you anywhere.”   

He feels his ears grow pink from embarrassment, and annoyance. “Please leave me be. I said I got better already.”

Takano now starts outright teasing him, claiming that he must clearly know the extent to which he is in trouble, if he is so intent on proving the progress he is making. At least you know, he says, that this path is leading you nowhere. Earlier, Aoyagi felt offended by his words, but this time, perhaps because of the proximity, they feel less impersonal and cold. It also helps that Takano goes on.

“Aoyagi-san… Do you remember what you said to me about the Othello disks before I left?”

He has to think about it for a few seconds. “That I wanted to become your Othello disk, as you were mine?”

“That’s right.” Takano smiles to himself. His voice is so quiet, in the buzzing of the airplane’s engine, it is almost impossible to hear him. Aoyagi has to lean over if he wants to catch his words. “I liked that. I was well offended too, but I decided I liked that in the end.”

He continues with something about Aoyagi’s straightforward and earnest manner. If anyone else said such things to him before, he would not have stopped at Vienna, he would have gone as far as the Moon, he claims. His tone is short on self-deprecating, but it suggests that Takano understands his own shortcomings, and tries to make fun of his dramatic escape now. Aoyagi cannot help but think it is amusing. He sometimes sees Ariake Sara and Takano teasing each other, but he never thought he would be trusted enough by the man to reveal himself this way.

He does not even try to switch on the screen in front of himself and flick through whatever the airline offers as onboard entertainment. Since Takano seems to be contented with his company, Aoyagi does the same. When the flight-attendants roll out with lunch a few minutes later, Takano takes over speaking to them again and grabs another round of beer for the both of them.

“As you said, we have twelve hours to spare,” he explains himself, when Aoyagi tries to warn him. “You heard that I am notorious for not being able to wake up in the morning. Well, no matter what I do, I cannot fall asleep on the plane.”

“Are you hoping that talking to me would help you fall asleep somehow?” The man gives him a look. “What else would you want from a useless salaryman like myself…”

Takano has a sweet laugh. “Have some confidence in yourself, Aoyagi-san,” he hums.

But he cannot begin to understand that. They are so many worlds apart, a world-famous principal, and the Ariake Company’s single most boring employee, on the verge of being fired due to downsizing. (Oh yes, and to not speaking English…)

“It is really hard to have any of that, when I am sitting next to the ‘Black Haired Prince’ of the ballet fans.”

Even though this is not really about being confident in one’s looks. But Takano has already attained so much, with the whole world at his feet, and all Aoyagi has is an impending life crisis when he is trying to find himself a new job with his lack of skills, so he could pay for his pitiful apartment at least. 

He got a taste of Takano’s world, when they were dancing, the other time. It truly must not matter to him how and who he touches if it has to do with ballet, because he still gets shivers any time he thinks of not only the prowess Takano approached him with, but the ease he got into the role of Rothbart seducing his Prince within mere seconds. Having a taste of his world does not mean he can step into it, even if Minami and Souta are trying so hard to make him learn at least the basics.

Takano demands his attention back. “But you are the one who keeps us together, Aoyagi-san. Like glue. Do you not realize how indispensable you are for finalizing this performance?”

He throws Aoyagi’s words back at him, but it does not seem ingenuine at all. Even if Aoyagi believes that anyone in his place would do the same. He tells this to the man, too.

“Really? I heard something about a flash-mob from Segawa earlier. It was your idea too, was it not? I think you give yourself less credit for it than you deserve.” He looks in the distance for a second. (More like, he looks at the back of the seat in front of his nose, and stares into it emptily.) “You brought me back, you know.”

Aoyagi wants to ask for an explanation, but he snaps out of it before he could even attempt to ask. Then, he looks back at the man.

“Tell me more about this flash-mob idea of yours. If I understand correctly, you require me to take part in it.”

 

***

 

About an hour later, the flight attendants go around and close the blinds on each window. Lights off. Takano makes a sound of disapproval.

“Now we get to suffer from not being able to sleep in the darkness.”

The green and red lights of the toilet behind them looms on the carpet almost ominously. He has to remind himself that they are still in real life. With people starting to sleep all around them and quietening down, the artificial colours, and the engine sounds transport him somewhere distant and unearthly. (Takano sitting next to him also doesn’t help, probably.)

To avoid the cold, Aoyagi wraps himself around with the airline’s blanket and places the pillow on his thighs as well, for extra warmth. He folds his hands above it.

“Cold?” Takano offers to get him some hot tea from the back, but he insists on not wanting to disturb the flight attendants.

He thinks they would run out of things to talk about after he makes his report on the flash-mob and throws in a few words in Nayuta’s favour. He praises him as much as he could, and tries to remind Takano of his own youth, and the way he would have behaved in the boy’s place. He is only nineteen, after all. (“Only nineteen, and only doing ballet for barely four years. You are speaking against him.”)  

“I respect what the kid is doing, in his own area of expertise. But I don’t want him anywhere near _my_ thing.” He gives a pointed look to Aoyagi. “Even though Sara says I am jealous of him.”

“I knew it would not be the case.” The answer comes out of his mouth before he would think about it too much. Takano raises an eyebrow. “Even though you are not ostentatious about it, you have self-confidence, Takano-san. Ever since I first met you I realized you are not the sort of person who would feel the need to prove himself to others. And when it comes to beauty as Sara-san accused you of… It shows very well that you were mistaken for a girl many times in your youth.”

Takano’s eyebrows run even higher, but he does not seem to be offended. No. It is something else: entertained, perhaps.

He asks. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

It might feel like overstepping his boundaries, but Aoyagi was never the sort of man who would run away from the truth. If someone asks him a question, he will do his best to answer sincerely.

“Takano-san is very pretty. Nobody should be surprised that your fans stick these nicknames on you, and I am sure that Sara-san knows this too.”

Even if he would let the conversation die as it is, Takano seems to be intent on getting his entertainment for all twelve hours straight. Everyone around them is fast asleep by now, at least the people Aoyagi can see from his seat.

“Sara also tells me you understand martial arts and calligraphy.”

He blinks. The company president’s daughter and Takano talk about _him_ in their free time? That is not something he expected to happen. Maybe he means the instance when he overheard a few things about him… But when he asks to clarify, Takano only nods.

“I asked a thing or two about you.” When he fears that Aoyagi would not continue on his own, he nudges him with his words. “She also said something about poems. Do you write them?”

He says a few words about enjoying poems and gives some examples of what he likes, which leads Takano to think he writes them, as well. That sounds absurd to him. He does not have enough creativity to do that! So, he quickly corrects that.

“No, no. But there is a site on the internet I make a habit of visiting every evening it’s…” He shakes his head, realizing that Takano most likely does not care about the sort of poetry sites he checks.

Takano nods at him, encouragingly.

“Go on. That is sort of charming.”

He somehow gets Tomomi into the story, even though poetry was one part of his life she did not really take part of. Maybe he is only used to keeping her in his mind at all times, she takes over parts of his routine that never really belonged to her when she was alive. Takano’s gaze softens on him.

“You keep saying you are nothing but a mere salaryman, but I always saw you had an affinity to the arts in you,” he breathes, almost inaudibly. “Aoyagi-san, I think there is more to you than you allow yourself to be. I wish you saw how brilliant you were.”

Something touches his hand, and it takes him a while until he realizes that the something is indeed Takano, who snaked his arm under the elbow-rest to get a hold of him. He wonders if this is about showing sympathy but decides against it.

“Simply caring some for the arts does not make anyone brilliant.”

That’s right, Takano agrees, which suggests there are other reasons he thinks highly of the other. Even so, he is not willing to say anything more about that. His thumb traces Aoyagi’s palm, absent-mindedly drawing patterns into it. They held hands before, during the dance. (It was different though, Takano did that for work.) So, he is not surprised by how soft the man’s hand feels, or by the warmth that remains between their skin. There is only one thing that shocks him.

“Takano-san… You hate to be touched.” It is strange enough, that he has to remind him of this.

The man agrees. Normally, yes, he would be averse to it. But this time, he chose this, he claims. Aoyagi saw it himself.

“Please do not die of stress while sitting next to me. And… it is not like I am not flustered enough too, if the so called ‘Lover of the Whole World’ is holding my hand.”

He smiles in response and allows his irregular teeth to peek out from under his lips. “Humour me, please.”

Aoyagi does.

 

***

 

He expects Takano to get over this handholding spell in under a minute, but he needs to find out that he is wrong again. Takano has no plans letting go of his hand any time soon.

It makes him think of the last time he held a hand. Was it his wife? Two years? Takasaki Minami held his hand briefly, when they were practising ballet the other day. If it counts, Takano did too, when he was explaining the Mizuho-version of Swan Lake to him in a dance. Other than that, real, intimate handholding, that is not supported by any reason whatsoever. That hasn’t happened in a while. And he never expected it to happen with Takano. Again, who admittedly loathed when other people touched him anywhere.

When a flight attendant walks by to offer water to anyone who is awake, instead of letting go, Takano simply tucks their hands under the blanket, so they would not be immediately visible. Aoyagi starts to get increasingly confused.

He says Takano’s name, to prompt an explanation.

“When I left Tokyo, I had no plans to go back. Yet, I called you. I was wondering what you, Aoyagi Seiji would do, when faced with this, after all. Perhaps I even imagined a scenario where you would risk everything and run after me as a last, desperate attempt.”

Aoyagi tries to separate their hands. “So you only wanted me to run after you, and beg you to come back?”

The man’s grip hardens on him, not letting him go.

“No. I toyed with the idea, perhaps hoped for it, too, but never expected you to do any of it. … Then, there you were. At the café.”

He gives up, allowing his hand to become lax once again in Takano’s. There isn’t a single person around them who would be aware of what plays down between the two of them. It is only him, looking into Takano’s black eyes, and Takano, staring back, looking for a favourable answer.

He shakes his head. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone hope for me to come…”

Takano gives him an affectionate look, although it is also full of pity. He turns towards Aoyagi, as much as their seats allow him.

“You are quite slow about this, are you not? Always a little oblivious, like with Takasaki Minami too.” Bringing up Takasaki Minami only makes him more confused. What does that girl have to do with anything? “You know it is not often that someone would so earnestly come to me, like you did with that Othello disk speech, begging me to use him, in exchange of being used.”

Takano thinks for a while after he says this, then clicks his tongue. “Well, that was a blatant lie on my part, wasn’t it. It does not often happen in this situation. It does not often happen that I would approve of it, either.”

Aoyagi must look utterly lost and confused at this point because it makes the other laugh. Not sharply, sweetly, more like. Patiently. He lets go of Aoyagi’s hand to brush some hair out of his face, and cup his cheeks a little. It makes his nose burn red.

“I came to you first, telling you that I wanted to dance the Mizuho-version of Swan Lake, which involves same-sex love. I showed you the part I wanted to dance: I made you part of it. You became flustered, and at first I thought it was because you hated even the idea of it. The next day I learn you single-handedly convinced your company that you need to get with the times. And, after all this, you yourself said that you think I am pretty, and that thanks to meeting me, you started to get over your wife… So… Are we on the same page?”

“I certainly did say that.”

It starts to get clearer why Takano would trade a business class seat with someone else, but everything is quite hazy, so far. Even the engine noises seem to be distant, if they did not disappear completely.

“I never do this, especially not on a long-haul flight, but Aoyagi-san, you are so difficult to reach out to, when it is not about work. Are we on the same page?”

Aoyagi is in the middle of deciphering those words and trying to come up with an appropriate answer when the other leans over the handrail and presses a soft, short kiss on his lips. It happens so quickly, he doesn’t even have enough time to close his eyes.

Takano blinks up at him. “You find it detestable?”

He cannot really say that… no. Surprising, yes. Unexpected? Yes. Takano tells him immediately that he should have expected this a long-long time ago. Aoyagi asks, since when.

“Well, you should have expected it since the dance, if you were quick enough,” Takano thinks, and shoves the armrest away with one hand. The other seeks Aoyagi’s again. “If you weren’t, then by the time I offered you a bed, at the latest. I wanted to talk to you.”

He also turns his body towards Takano, finally. “Talk to me, or...”

“Well, whichever you let me do.”

He does not answer, so Takano crosses the space between their lips one more time and kisses him more boldly, fingers tapping at his hand. This time, he even has enough time to shut his eyes. Takano seems to be able to content with modest, gentle kisses, which is probably due to the fact that he hates to be touched. Maybe being on an airplane, practically in public, also puts him off. Surely, Aoyagi is more than fine with this as well, since his head is still spinning with all the unexpected events that took place in the span of two very short days. He does not really hate the outcome, it is quite enjoyable (as much as it is shocking) so to say, but this all still came about while spending thirty hours in the air.

They only separate when the flight attendant makes another round with the water.

 

***

 

He knew that talking to the ghost of Tomomi was a bad habit before, but finally there is a good opportunity to start stopping with that. Telling his wife that he kept kissing a beautiful ballet dancer and holding his hand for about seven hours of a plane ride somehow sounds improper, if not downright impure. Tomomi would be happy to learn that he is learning how to move on, and not only talks about it, but maybe she does not need a detailed report on his discoveries.

Whenever someone comes back to use the toilet, Takano stops, and buries their hands under the blanket with an offended face. It is a reasonable measure, no matter what sort of faces he pulls while doing it. Aoyagi tells him so, as well.

“Takano-san… You are a very famous man. It is already a miracle that half of the plane is not queuing up for the toilet just to have a look at you, after all.”

“First off, stop with this. My name is Haruka.”

It makes sense he would request this, but it does not make it feel any less odd. Aoyagi knows it will take a while until his brain will reconcile with this news.

“I am just trying to tell you that this is quite reckless.”

Takano smiles. “I know. And I am telling you, this is not something I normally do. So, you are either very special, or I am just starting to lose my mind completely, after all this drama.”

Aoyagi wouldn’t be surprised. He himself is unsure if he can tell what is real and what is just the figment of his imagination anymore.

“What comes after this?” he asks.

“Well, first, we put on a brilliant show in December. Then we talk about what comes next…” That sounds very cryptic, but he understands that he cannot demand an answer from the man right now. After all, he did not even expect Aoyagi to chase after him to begin with.

They hold hands under the blanket, even as the plane makes its landing at Haneda airport, after what feels like a relatively short amount of time. Takano really did mean it, when he wanted him to provide as a distraction from not being able to sleep on long-haul flights. The two of them let everyone go ahead of them, having nowhere exactly to rush. Only now does he realize that he did not see anything of the scenery for a second time.

Everything is settled, at least as to what concerns the performance, and it is only eleven am in Tokyo. Aoyagi cannot tell how long he’s been awake for, his brain is in complete disarray. He is about to walk towards customs, when Takano stops him.

“I have checked baggage. Will you not wait for me?” He taps him on the nose, slightly emerging on tiptoes as he does so.

Aoyagi waits, of course. He forgot.

About twenty minutes later, they appear at the arrivals hall side by side, and are faced with Segawa, who ended up stuffing all the paper bags into her bag. She seems almost well-rested, compared to the two of them. They look the happier, even so.

“Takano-san. Your car is still in the parking lot: I called them back and told them to leave it here last night, so I can drive you back to your apartment, if you are ready,” she says, as a greeting. From her pocket, she fishes out the keys. “I already picked these up.”

Takano tilts his head. “That is unnecessary. Go home and have some rest, Yui. Aoyagi will take care of me from here.”

Segawa sends a questioning look towards Aoyagi: I have barely anything to do, are you planning to steal the last of my work from me? He returns the gaze, just as concerned as the woman herself.

“Take tomorrow off as well,” Takano tells her. “You had a lot going on in the past two days.”

Since this almost sounds caring, coming from him, Segawa’s attitude towards the situation changes as well. She smiles and bows before throwing the keys at Aoyagi. Then, having done everything she could, she runs off to find another ride home.

When they remain alone, Takano nudges him by the arm. “Take me home, then.”

They walk next to each other in silence for a while, until they reach the man’s car. He loads the suitcases into the back, then takes a deep breath. There is nobody around them on this floor, as he looks around, before opening the door.

“I have never…” he starts, and thankfully, it is unnecessary to finish. Takano understands.

His eyes disappear, as he chuckles.

“I have been awake for I cannot even tell how long. And besides, I still very much, really loathe to be touched. So worry not. … The two of us, we will die from stress another time.”


End file.
